


There's always a silver lining

by Dxlyaxe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fisting, Exhibitionism, Keith is only there at the end, M/M, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Other, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dxlyaxe/pseuds/Dxlyaxe
Summary: Shiro should be grateful for his floating prosthetic, but he really just hates it. When offered a chance at a replacement, he's quick to accept, but... there is one thing he's going to miss about having a massive floating arm that does whatever he wants.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 45





	There's always a silver lining

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: @Peng3613 https://twitter.com/Peng3613/status/1202308227058159617
> 
> Every now and then the gif comes across my feed and I go... hm. So here we are.

Shiro has… mixed feelings on the arm given to him by Sam and Allura. It works, it works really well actually, has amazing control and sensitivity, but it floats. He looks in the mirror and has to turn away because his arm isn’t connected, but it is and the dichotomy is too much to bear sometimes. 

He likes that it isn’t weaponized anymore than any other arm. He hated the purple glow of the Galran arm, even if it saved the Paladin’s lives several times over (never mind his own). Yet when he sees it floating at his side, he remembers Sendak and his own floating arm, that cudgel of a thing swinging around, smashing anything in its way, at least until Keith put him down. Shiro doesn’t like killing, not after everything, but seeing Sendak die was the most pleasing thing to his eyes in a long time. 

Olkarion was destroyed, but many of its people managed to survive, and Voltron helps them settle in a new planet, empty once but now filled with the natural technology of the people and planet. Ryner offers up to make a new arm as payment. Shiro accepts (his guilt over this selfish reward lasts all of three days, when finally sick of his moping Keith and the others stage an intervention).

The one thing he does love about the floating arm, the only thing he’ll miss is this: it goes anywhere he wants or needs it. So, he steps out of the shower, towels off and lays out the damp towel on his bedspread, turns the mirrors in the room just right and lays back on the bed, legs splayed wide as he slicks up the hand and lets it drifted between his legs, flesh arm holding up soft cock and balls as the first metal finger nudges at his entrance. 

This is not the first time he’s done this, it’s a weekly ritual at this point that he indulges in two or three times a week. That his body still recovers despite what he is aiming to do makes him question his DNA, but the feel is so perfect as one finger nudges into two and the stretch feels divine, his breath hitches slightly and his soft cock twitches in his light hold. 

He doesn’t get hard like he used to, cock swelling at the smallest things before Kerberos. He was, as Adam called him, a chronic masturbator, which really he was, slipping away two or three times throughout the day to crank one out before returning to class, and still having enough energy and desire for Adam in the evenings. Now he’ll get hard maybe once a week during these sessions, and while he misses what he once had, what he gets now, as he slips in a third fat finger, more than makes up the difference. 

Three fingers, cramped together, is wider than any cock he’s ever taken, measuring in with an eight inch circumference. He lingers here, working his hand steadily, the gloss of the lube turning to white froth as he stretches the fingers out, watching his rim turn from vibrant pink to abused red, the wrinkles and swirl of his hole fading into one smooth opening, even as if clings to his fingers as they work in that fourth finger, a pinky that would be small if it weren’t attached to this huge metal hand. 

His breath explodes out of him as it slips inside down to the knuckle, then further to the webbing of his thumb, the last obstacle in his quest. He wiggles his fingers inside, letting them press and stretch his colon out, nudging at his prostate with each pass until his cock, still soft, but swollen and fuller now, leaks cloudy precum, and he squeezes the length slowly, feeling his pulse under his hand. 

He shifts around on hands and knees, checking the mirrors angle and shuffling until he gets the right angle to nudge his thumb in as well, the stretch going from full to just on the painful side of uncomfortable, but he knows it won’t last for long and so he keeps nudging his hand forward, tiny short thrusts that just keep pushing until the widest part pushes in, and he can’t help the short “oh” that escapes him, his ass clenching down on the wrist, a huge thirteen inch circumference that has him keening softly as he starts to move his hand. 

He holds it steady for a moment after one rough thrust, balancing carefully on his knees as he leans forward to grab the lube from where he tucked it under the pillow and pours some into his hand, bottle held between his teeth. It’s annoying and cumbersome, but it gets the job done as he spits the bottle out, uses the back of his hand to close the lid and nudge it out of the way, spilling only a few drops on the towel below. He leans forward again, smashing his shoulder and port into the bed as he reaches back and feels the hot mess that is his asshole as he smears lube around his wrist, and holds it as he works the hand again in short thrusts until the friction that made him pause disappears. He relaxes back on the bed and lets the fist inside him get to work, alternating between longer slow thrusts that have his ass stretched around the width of his fist and short quick thrusts as he grips around his wrist. 

Shiro whimpers after a brutal thrust against his prostate and holds his hand in place as he pushes up to his knees and sets his prosthetic to work again. For a few moments he lets himself just feel, then he looks down and groans, his stomach just distending enough around his fist to be visible and he pushes down on the hard bump as he rocks his hips back, pushing further down his arm past the wrist to where it starts to widen at his forearm. In the back of his mind he knows he should probably stop, but as the bulge in his skin grows, he doesn’t care, and rocks back again and again, short whimpers and groans escaping him. 

His cock aches as his bounces, drooling precum in sticky spurts, a thick strand connecting the head to the puddle on the towel. He watches another spurt escape and he pushes back hard, his breath hitching and then exploding out as he finally hits his peak, come oozing out of his soft cock as he rocks through the sensation. His toes curl, his thighs shake and his breath explodes out in short pants as he comes down from his high. 

Eventually he falls over, burying his face in his bedspread as the fist in his ass slowly eases out. He can’t help but let out a short whine as his hole is stretched around the widest part of his hand, practically falling out once his thumb escapes. He lets the hand drop to the bed, coated in thick white lube. 

He also knows he should get cleaned up again, but his ass is sore, his hips ache, and his hole is freezing as cool air blows across and into his stretched opening. 

“Tsk, what a mess.” Keith finally gets up from the chair he’s been watching from in the corner of the room. He picks up the hand and sets in in a bucket of warm water they keep during these longer sessions. Another bowl has been kept warm and he pulls the hot washcloth from it and starts on cleaning Shiro’s thighs. 

Shiro sighs at the warmth and lets himself be pushed to his side, away from the towel that Keith balls up and tosses into the laundry. He knows he’s drifting as Keith wrangles the sheets from under him and tucks him into bed, sleepy and warm. 

“You did very good tonight, Shiro. Get some sleep.”

“M’kay…”

Keith kisses him on the forehead and turns the lights off before sliding into bed himself. Tomorrow Shiro gets a new prosthetic, but Keith is already planning on keeping the old one, just in case.


End file.
